Breaking Free
by FrostedLockett
Summary: Charity is suffering deeply from her father, ruthlessly beating her and her mother. But she meets a valuable friend, who becomes her personal escape and will lead her to all sorts of places.


**Note: This is my first fanfic so I hope you won't hate on me too much lol, it is slightly depressing at first but it will get better I swear :P well here it is anyway hope you enjoy :) oh and also Jack will come into the story in the 2nd or 3rd chapter, sorry this one is a bit short.**

Another day passed with the next wave of brutal beatings, Charity's father, Richard never seemed to tire of making her life miserable and mentally unbearable. Each day he would stagger to the nearest pub to get as drunk as he could possibly manage... Once he would return he'd take out anger that surfaced from nowhere, on Charity and her mother Caroline.

Charity was only 13 and the girl had already tried to run from home; only to be found and receive another round of beatings.

She was distracted from her thoughts by the sound of the front door to their shack of a house bust open and swing round to smash various pots. The deep muffled voice of her beast of a father mumbled curses. She could feel her hands beginning to tremble and shake, her salty tears dribbling down her delicate, innocent face.

She forced her eyes down to her ragged dress and tried to occupy her mind to stop crying and ignore the noise from outside her cramped room. Her father hit her more if she cried. She gazed at the dress wondering what the colour must have been before this mucky, dirt brown. How much effort someone had put into making it and she'd ruined it. She cried even more now, she tended to ruin most things.

She stood and fumbled with the latch to her window; looking for escape. She could barely keep her hands steady but managed open the lock and squeezed her tiny broken body out the window. She fell and let out a small yelp when her face made impact with the rocks but quickly silenced herself, it was no more than she was used to and the longer father didn't know she'd gone, the better. Though she knew she had to return, she wasn't stupid, if she left now she'd starve. If she went back and packed what little she could... _he_ would catch her and part of her did want to stay... for the sake of her mother.

This was just a bit of time out.

No matter how much Charity hated the idea of leaving her mother behind with that monster, she had to think of herself. Even when she knew how much she'd regret leaving when he found out.

She could still hear her mother's screeching when she'd reached her regular 'time out' spot. It was by the river, she loved to listen to the slow rhythm of the water beating against the rocks. She looked round to be greeted by the familiar, peaceful sight of ongoing fields. Her family (if you could call it that) didn't live in the main towns and cities. They ran a small farm in the country. But it had been struggling lately, the weather hadn't been too kind and her father wasted most of their needed money on alcohol. Charity's life seemed to be running downhill rather fast... Sometimes she thought about ending it, nobody cared about her, the world would probably be a better place without her. The river began to look awful friendl-

"Hello" crackled a quiet voice, interrupting her depressing train of thought. The voice belonged to a small scraggly boy that looked a similar age to her. "I see you here a lot... crying" He continued. As he edged closer, Charity could see his short chocolate hair, scruffily sticking in all random directions, he had bright blue eyes showing innocence but torture. "My name's Antony but ye can call me Ant if ye want". He held out his hand, Charity inspected it and couldn't help but notice how dirty they were. She knew he couldn't off been much better off than her, so she shakily shook his hand.

"I'm ch- Charity, Charity Evans" She replied; hastily wiping away tears out of embarrassment.

"Charity Charity Evans is a weird name"

She chuckled lightly but then realised that he was genuinely confused.

"No I meant just Charity Evans"

"Oh right, um ye, I was just kidding" A flush of red in his cheek gave him away. "I'm Antony, Antony Taylor".

She began to drift off from the boy, absorbed in thought again.

"Why d' ye cry" He asked sitting beside her at the river. "Pretty girl like you shouldn't be crying"

"Everyone hates me". She began to sob again.

"I don't hate you Charity". She looked at the boy now who was staring intently into her eyes. "wha' happened to ye face?"

"Nothing" She snapped. Silence fell for a few moments. "Why are you here so often?"

"I live 'ere"

"What?"

"Right ova there" He pointed at a ruffle of grass across the river.

"I'm sorry"

"And what ye sorry for?"

"Well... where do you get your food?"

Antony looked down as if shamed, blushing slightly and fell silent. "I... well I get it from yer house". "I'm sorry I don't mean to steal bur I 'av too"

Charity blinked in shock but then pity took her thoughts. "Well Ant, you don't have to steal anymore, come with me" she announced, feeling pleased with herself at the excitement in the boys eyes.

She led him back to the house only to be confronted by a smashed bloodied glass sitting next to a motionless father, his arms tangled and broken.


End file.
